Wistful Eyes
by Wolfayne
Summary: Ace has always been here, always been nothing more than a slave to be sold for a few hours to whoever wanted to buy him for the night. He knew it wouldn't change, so why did that sleepy looking pirate insist on commenting on his eyes? Why did he insist on talking about the freedom and adventure he knew he would never be allowed to have?
1. Prologue: Just Another Day in Paradise

**Hi guys!**

 **This is my first ever attempt at a story, so I hope you like it. Usually I only read, but I have been having this voice in my head that keeps saying that I should give it a go and see if anyone might actually care for it. So, tell me what you think, yeah? Oh, and flames will be used to roast marshmallows and hot dogs. So, give me constructive criticism, compliments, or nothing at all.**

 **Oh, and I don't have a beta reader, so if anyone wants to give me a hand, it would be awesome. So, message me if interested in helping me out with this story? Pretty please?**

 **Oh, and unfortunately, the nummy couple and company do not belong to me…Makes me cry sometimes.**

 **The themes are kind of tough too…. rape, slavery, violence, lemons… the works. And yes, I know, the characters are going to be a bit OC. Get over it, it's my frigging story.**

It really was a beautiful, early summer day.

It was comfortably warm, with a bright smiling sun and just a few wispy clouds adorning the endless blue sky. A gentle wind stirred the leaves outside the open window, bringing with it the briny, fresh scent of the sparkling ocean. The sea itself was just as beautiful as it always was, even from this distance, and it was full of the promise of freedom and adventure, stretching on to the unseen horizons. Faint echoes of music and laughter could be heard from the distant tents, buildings, and ships that marked the town that surrounded the pier and market.

It was a day that any normal teenager in their right mind would be busy taking advantage of. Running around. Climbing trees. Fighting, hunting, stealing. Wreaking havoc in general.

 _If only I was a_ normal _teenager._

Ace sighed, gazing longingly at the world outside with wistful quicksilver eyes. Instead running around the distant town like he desperately wished he was, he was _here._ Like he always had been and always would be. But that was just the way things were when you were born in his circumstances. You know. Slavery was a real pain in the ass. It was a typical story really. At least it was when it came to a place like this.

Yeah, a place like this. A place where men and women would often come to escape for a time and indulge in themselves. A place where they paid the Keeper to spend a few scant hours doing whatever it is they wished to do to whoever they wished to do it to. There weren't really any rules to be followed except to leave the slaves alive and treatable, and of course to pay what was due.

It was a life Ace had been forced to live for as long as he could remember. And he would likely continue to live it from the confines of the compound until he was either dead or he was sold. Either could happen at any moment, really, and he would have no say in whatever happened. That was just another facet of his cursed fate.

He closed his eyes and sighed again before turning back to the little room – more of a cupboard, really – that he called his quarters. The whole of the floor was taken up by the mat that was his bed and the black silk robe he was to wear when he was called upon was hanging limply on the door. The window itself was small, barely two hands across and just and tall, set squarely in the middle of the wall. No decoration adorned the whitewashed room. He knew better than to allow the Keeper and his minions to see such things. The few bits of color and life he called his were all carefully stored away in a nook in one of the ceiling beams, away from any prying eyes. A colorful leaf, or a shining stone. A silky feather or an odd knot of tree roots that he had cut out of the back garden one day. One of the patrons had even left behind a cracked piece of seashell once, likely dislodged from his muddy boots when he had thrown them aside as he advanced. But those little baubles, beautiful and pure as they were, wasn't what really held the youth's heart. No, what he loved the most was the worn photograph of a stunning young woman with wavy auburn hair and a face full of golden freckles wearing an ivy green robe, closely held by a man with a shaggy black mane and laughing silver eyes. It didn't take a genius to know who they were. At least not in regards to him. His parents. The slave girl and the pirate.

 _I don't even know their names…_ he whispered in the silence of his mind. _I wish… I wish I knew who they were. Who_ I _am._ Of course, he knew that was an impossible wish. His mother was dead and his father… he was just another nameless patron from long ago. It was easy to guess the man was a pirate, as that was the profession of most of the people that frequented this place. And he already knew his mother was a slave; after all, this had been her room, and the robe was obvious enough.

Either way, they were gone, and he was left to live out the life Fate had sentenced him too the moment he was born.

With a final longing glance at the open window, Ace curled up on his mat tugging the ratty blanket across his naked form for some semblance of comfort. It was already midafternoon, so it would be best if he managed to get a bit of sleep before the usual night rush began. After all, he was to be on the roster again. And that always meant he would be busy.

 **So, what do you think? Don't worry, more stuff will happen soon! Next chapter will introduce everyone's favorite fire turkey and maybe more. Reviews will help me get on it faster, so tell me! Pretty please with smexy man smut on top? ;P**


	2. Chapter 1: One Hell of an Invitation

**Oh my gawd, I am so sorry it took so long to post this! I actually had this chapter finished _ages_ ago, but I have this really stupid cheap laptop that decided to reset itself and deleted it, so I had to redo it it and than it did it _again_ and than I redid it but someone stole my charger from work so I had to go buy a new one and~! Yeah. And life has just been so busy! Either way, here you go!**

 **If I owned One Piece, Thatch, Ace, and Pops would not have died. And Akainu and Teach would be dancing the Macarena in an eternal conga line.**

* * *

Hekili Island was tucked away in a remote region of the New World, often completely overlooked by passerby unless they had prior knowledge of the place. Located not far from the Red Line, but on the very edge of the Calm Belt left it, for the most part, undisturbed by any of those with nefarious plans. In fact, it was for this very reason that is was often chosen as a neutral meeting place for those higher up in the sea's ranks of power, and also a rather successful trading hub.

It was a tropical type island, with the heat reminiscent of a summer island but with the weather wet enough to be a spring one. It was long and only a couple miles wide, growing longer around one end where a massive, log dormant volcano rested. At the narrowest point lay the sole town, more tent and fabric than sturdy wood on account of all the merchants that would come to buy and sell their wares in a safe place. Straight behind the town was a long road, surprisingly well kept for such an overgrown island, that lead towards the volcano.

At the end of the road lay a massive, beautiful compound guarded by heavy, intricately wrought iron gates and a massive stone wall.

The compound itself was home to five individual manors, each of a colonial Victorian design; sturdy but elegant, strong but graceful. They sat in semi-circle facing towards the large paved circle and road that led towards the walls and gate and the village beyond them.

At the very center was what was commonly called the Party House, if only because that is where parties were generally hosted when the Manors were reserved. It was by far the largest and grandest of the lot, complete with a ballroom, library, grand hall, day room, parlor, dining hall, saloon – featuring a large fully stocked bar, of course, and a multitude of sitting rooms, restrooms, and even a few bedrooms for more distinguished guests that might happen upon the place. The role of this particular manor was to be something of a show house, a place to display the goods and services offered there through a somewhat more public and innocent setting. The biggest rule there was something along the lines of _no touching_ ; no intimacy of any kind was to be had within the Party House. Patrons were only allowed to look.

The two manors to the immediate left and right of the Party House were just a bit smaller – just enough to be noticeable. Their faces were a bit less grand as well, though only just; and there were both identical to each other, despite the fact that they both played two very different roles.

The manor to the left was known as the Pleasure Palace. Save for the entrance hall and kitchen, the whole of this manor was made up entirely of bedroom suites, each hosting a large bed, a number of shelves, several lush chairs, and of course a large bathroom. Several of the larger and better equipped suites even had fireplaces; they usually had the best views as well. On each of the four floors there was also a supply room that held any number of goods that might be needed in the rooms, including extra linens, blankets, candles, oils, and even a number of "toys" that patrons might wish to use on their chosen partner. This manor was favored by those who wished to enjoy the gentler side of things, as it were.

On the other hand, the manor on the right was called the Prison Block, apparently due to the fact that the happenings that went on inside could be seen as similar to the happenings within the prison of Impel Down. Inside, the top two floors were set up with semi open plan with a long, open hallway reaching from one end on the mansion to the other, with the large rooms on either side separated by only the walls between them. No doors hung in the double wide doorways, leaving the rooms open to anyone that might pass by and allowing them to watch or even participate in whichever scene caught their fancy. The bottom floor was for private rooms only, closed off completely from each other and from any that had not been specifically invited. Any tools or toys that anyone might wish to use were carefully kept in locked cabinets or hung on walls within clear glass cabinets, accessible only with the approval of any of the Guards that patrolled and the keys that they kept with them at all times. Despite the fact that the use of this manor was a great deal more expensive than its sister, it was by far the more popular.

The last two manors were by far the smallest of the lot, though once again, they were identical in nearly every way. Both were only two stories high, with the bottom floors being used to house the Guards, medical staff, cooks, caretakers, and anyone else that would be paid to work within the compound. The bottom floor also included a large kitchen and an infirmary each. The top floor consisted of a large number of cramped bedrooms around the outer rim, each of them little more than a cupboard large enough to hold a bed-mat and a small window, and a large community bathroom in the center of the floor. Unlike the public manors that lay between them, the attics to these two were open and used to house any slaves unable to perform in the main business of the compound, including any young children and the elderly; these were used as laborers, meant to clean and keep the gardens and orchards in order. They were only allowed out of their manors when the gates were closed and there were no patrons within the compound.

Leading from the gate and in a large circle before the mansions was a great paved stone circle. The stones were all unevenly shapes and colored, ranging from small to large, round to square, white to black to brown, but had been fit painstakingly and seamlessly together. In the middle of the circle lay an orchard of odd trees that most guests had never before seen, but the natives simply called them Fruit Trees. Not any specific kind of fruit was born from their branches, rather there could be seen many different fruits upon the same trees; sometimes even on the same branch.

Behind the manors stretched a great garden, filled with flowers, herbs, trees, shrubs, and any number of other plants, there were even the off vegetable patch, though most were carefully placed so as to remain unseen. Paths scrawled lazily across the gardens, interrupted sometimes by a statue or a fountain or a bench. At the very back of the estate, massive and scrawling as it was, was a bathhouse, where even guests could enter – for a price, of course.

It really was a beautiful place, even if it hosted an ugly business.

* * *

Such beautiful weather outside. A gorgeous blue sky with an odd wisp of cloud here and there. A gentle breeze clearing away the dampness from this morning's rain shower. You could hear the muffled chatters and laughter of the people out and about and even the gentle rush of the tide on the beach. If you had sharp enough eyes, you could make out the tops of the sails from the ship in the wharf. It really was a gorgeous day. Perfect to relax in.

" – And that is where we get the mangoes from, see, the water from the west valley on my island makes them extra sweet, and the dragon fruit – "

Unless you were Marco the Phoenix of course and just had to listen to idiots try to sell you something.

Unfortunately, Marco was a good first mate and listened to his captain's orders, no matter how much he wanted to kick this arrogant ass into the next Pirate Age. The only thing that was keeping him from doing so at this point was the lone fact that a few of his brothers had thought it might be nice to join him. More fool them, for thinking it would be quick; he had been listening to his host, Captain Javak Kavan , talk about how perfect his island's fruit was and why the Whitebeard Pirates should exclusively trade with him for nearly two hours now. Thatch, Curiel, and Jozu were here as well, and Thatch alone was keeping the Phoenix amused.

The blonde glanced over at his best friend, who was still pouting from his last failed attempt to escape. He had been edging slowly along the wall behind Marco, heading for the door of the surprisingly well-lit bar, when Marco had turned to him with the promise of wrath and ungodly chores for months shining in his eyes. He did not even have to say a word. Needless to say, Thatch had lost his all his will to leave and enjoy his day elsewhere. The other two were of course highly amused by the silent exchange and could be heard snickering even now, nearly an hour later.

By the gods, he wished the man would shut up already.

The captain in front of him was balding, red-faced, and more than a little overweight. That combined with his ridiculously opulent outfit and his profuse seating just made him even more unpleasant to look at. Not to mention the pompous, nasally voice that reminded the first mate of the nobles that any self-respecting pirate detested.

"Now, I want to show you and Whitebeard just how serious I am about all of this – "

If Marco had any less self-control than he did, he would have rolled his eyes at that.

" – so I would like to invite you and your crew to join mine at the Manors for a party tonight so we can continue negotiations – "

Honestly he would just like to kick his head into a wall instead.

" – in a more favorable atmosphere. I would be paying for everything, of course. As a sign of goodwill, see. What say you, Phoenix?"

With that, the man looked at Marco expectantly, who remained watching him impassively for a moment before shifting to glance at his brothers momentarily.

"I would have to ask Pops about attending, yoi. He is captain, so it's his call." Despite the bland tone, he made sure it was apparent that he did not appreciate Javak's dismissal of proper ship etiquette; having a first mate listen to a trade proposal was one thing, but to make a decision like that without his captain's approval was another. Besides the fact that he just found him annoying. Standing, he continued. "Either way I will bring your proposal to Pops and he'll decide. I'll send a runner over later with the decision, yoi."

With that, he turned and left, all but dismissing the other without so much as a backward glance.

Walking quickly back through the town towards the docks, he ignored the scampering of his brothers as they tried to keep up with him, even ignoring Thatch's yowling, trying to get his attention.

"Oi, turkey, wait up a second!" he yelled, almost crashing into the blonde when he suddenly turned, ready to kick his brother. Thatch of course hastily dodged out of the way, long since used to his reactions to the bird names. "Why didn't you just say we'd go, chicken butt, you know Pops will say yes to that, at least."

With a growl Marco lunged again, this time successfully catching the auburn haired cook just as he stepped onto the wharf, sending him into the water below where he surfaced sputtering moments later. "It's not my choice, yoi. Besides, I wasn't going to get stuck there any longer listening to him. I saw a chance to leave and I took it."

"Leave it Thatch, you know he's right," Jozu rumbled as Curiel held out a hand to retrieve his brother from the water.

"Aye, first mate or not, it's not up to Marco to decide what the crew will do. It's up to Pops, and you know he might want to leave tonight." Curiel was of course referring to the fact that they hadn't been getting regular reports from one of the islands they protected, and might need to leave soon to check up on it.

Grumbling, Thatch just pouted as he attempted to shake some of the water out of his now ruined pompadour. "But it's a _party_! We never turn down a party!" Ignoring the chuckles from his fellow commanders, he jogged after Marco, heading toward the ship they all called home. He was already plotting how he would get payback for his hair. Do what you want to the rest of him, but come on, Marco, his hair was _off limits_!

* * *

"Welcome back, son!" boomed a familiar, hulking figure as soon as Marco stepped onto the Moby Dick. Even from a distance, Whitebeard had been able to see the annoyance hardening his eldest son's countenance, though most probably could not tell. The old man's eyes softened as the blonde quickly made his way up to him, perching on the armrest of his chair as he often did when they spoke. "How went the meeting with Javak? What did he want to speak to us about?"

"He wants us to trade with him exclusively, yoi. Fruits and wines mainly." Whitebeard did not even need to ask him about what he thought of that; the slight twitch in Marco's eyes said enough. "He also invited us to a party, somewhere he called the Manors."

"Oh! Oh! I know what that is!" A red headed, almost child-like young woman suddenly popped up from behind Whitebeard's throne, a mischievous smirk planted firmly on her face.

"What is it, brat?" Marco grumbled, glaring at his sister halfheartedly. Haruta had the habit of popping up unexpectedly just about anywhere, it did not really surprise him anymore.

"I was listening to some of the natives and they were talking and they were saying that the Manors were gross and they didn't seem to like them and – "

"What she means to say is that they're kind of like a Red Light District," Jiru suddenly interrupted, wrapping his arms around the girl and planting his hand firmly over her mouth. Haruta only nodded.

"Oh? Well, that seems harmless enough, gurarara! We might as well go, don't you think? No need to turn down a party! And while we're at it I can talk to Javak and let him down easy."

Marco nodded, leaning again the old man comfortably. It might be a big crew, an even bigger fleet, but they had all the trade partners they needed. And besides, trade everything from only one place would be cutting off the businesses of those they could get only certain things from. They would take care of their friends and charges as best they could, and that included even the economic aspects of it all. A lot of money went into taking care of a ship like theirs. Might as well spread the wealth around. "Why don't you go tell them we accept the invitation, Haruta. Get some of that energy out, yoi. Jiru, go with her, yeah?"

"Okay, big bro!" she chirped, wiggling out of her friend's hold. She jumped onto the dock even as Thatch and the others climbed back on.

"Told you we'd go, songbird."

"Thatch, gods damn it!"

* * *

It was not long before dusk that fifteen of the Whitebeard divisions set off through the town towards the base of the volcano, where the Manors apparently were located. Only the eighth division was left behind, as it was their turn to do so. Namur had silenced any grumbling with a firm growl even as he bid the rest of the crew good evening.

The journey there was jovial enough, with good natured jokes and rough housing among the lower ranked crew. The commanders though, were oddly silent with frowns marring their expressions.

Each of them had noticed the disgusted glances and glares they had all received upon entering the road out of town. Of course, they had all seen their fair share of scorn and disgust in their times, some more than others, but never so strongly or openly before.

"What is it you think is bothering all of them?" Vista murmured, glancing at Izo. If anyone would figure it out, it would be the crossdresser; he almost seemed able to read minds, considering. "I have seen a great deal of disdain for such places before, but it was as if it was stronger for some reason. More tangible than usual."

"Who knows. They all seem open enough, I'd think they'd be alright with a brothel or two." Izo flipped his fan open, waving it languidly at his face.

"They seem quite honorable, perhaps it is the nature of the business they do not approve of?"

"Yes, well, either way, it isn't like they are going to stop trading with us over something like this. I'd say plenty of their visitors come this way, judging by the looks of things. The trade would die out."

Vista hummed, conceding his point, glancing back towards the town again before shaking his head. Izo was right, going to this party wouldn't change anything. There was no real reason to worry about it.

Before long, the gates marking the entrance to the venue appeared, and the crew looked on in awe as the Manors appeared before them. Few had ever been somewhere so elegant or rich in demeanor. Impeccably kept and well-lit with lanterns in the waning light, the view was beautiful to say the least.

Finally, they were before the largest of the manors, where they were greeted by not only Captain Javak, but also a stern, severe looking woman and a host of what looked like guards.

"Good evening, Whitebeard Pirates. I am the Keeper of this establishment, and you may call me as such. The rules here are simple. As your host has already taken responsibility for the payment of the festivities, you will be able to do as you please. This Manor is the Party House. Most drinking and socializing will be done here. You will also be able to view any goods you may will to acquire. Once you find one you wish to keep for the night, approach a guard," she motioned behind her, towards the bulky, uniformed men. "They will guide you towards a room in one of the other manors. The one on the left is completely private, you will have a room, a bed, any basic essentials you may need tonight. On the right is for the more adventurous types, far less private, and with a great many more rules. They will be explained should you wish to venture there. You will not maim or kill my people. You will obey the guards or myself at all times. Is that clear."

The old woman glared at the massive crew before her, taking in their appearance without a trace of fear. They had to give her props for that, after all, it was not every day that they met someone who could stare them down like that. Especially considering she was little more than a stick compared to a bunch of people that could be mistaken for part giants. Actually, it made several of them rather uncomfortable, glancing around at their fellows, unsure. Eventually it was Whitebeard himself who spoke. "We agree, Keeper. I will keep my brats in line," he rumbled out, glancing over at Marco, who was frowning at the woman. The way she had spoken, the words she had used, it seemed they both knew something else was going on here, something they would not like.

She nodded once, before standing aside and gesturing the crowd inside.

"Enjoy."

* * *

 **So, what do you think. A lot of filler I know, but I tried. You got to meet the crew at least! Next chapter will feature Ace meeting them all for the first time, a little Marco backstory, and an explosion. Of sorts.**

 **And I promise to be quicker about posting chapters. See ya next time! Review, please and thank you!**


	3. Chapter 2: First Encounters

Okay, so it's been way longer than I said it would be. But at least the story is not abandoned! It is alive! My excuse this time is that the crappy laptop also completely stopped working, and I've only just really I can write chapters on the FF app.l

So I tried to kidnap Sanji, thought we could talk about how awesome cooking is, but he blew me off cuz I don't own him...

This is a beta-less chapter! Be warned!

Everyone was gathered in the entrance hall of the Party House in the early hours of the evening. Everyone able to 'work' had been summoned, regardless of the usual schedules or days off, and all of the others had already been confined for the night. Every guard was present, even the cooks, and of course the Keeper was there too. It was a veritable sea of colorful silk robes, all kneeling quietly as they waited to be addressed, with the ever watchful, greedy eyes of the leather clad men surrounding them.

To an ebony haired, quicksilver eyed young man in black, it was, in a word, a nightmare.

It did not take a genius to know what this gathering meant. And of so many of them? All of them? So early? That had to mean a large group was reserved for the night. A really large group, by the look of things. That rarely meant anything good for him.

Ace shuddered. For some reason, he was a favorite pick for the purveyors of the Prison Block. It probably had something to do with the rebellious pout he could not seem to rid himself of, or maybe it was the fact he was a bit taller and a little more built than many of his fellows. Or it might just be because he was still so young. He was not sure but he thinks he might be about seventeen or eighteen year old - that was young, right? Definitely younger than the hag up there.

"Listen to me well, beasts," the Keeper began, her sharp, no nonsense voice snapped out from the front of the hall. "Tonight we will have many guests. Not only will Captain Javak Kavan be hosting the party with his crew, but he has invited a very powerful crew and their captain to accompany him."

Even though he remained passive on the outside, Ace winced internally. Anyone but him... I hate when he comes! And the other crew will probably be just as bad! He remembered the last time Kavan had stepped foot in the compound, Ace had barely been able to move for days, and he was certain he still had some healing bruises. Kavan enjoyed "playing with the toys", in other words, beating his chosen victims senseless every time he came, and Ace seemed to be his favorite toy by far.

The Keeper allowed her icy gaze to roam those assembled. "There will be no problems. Understood?" There was a collective murmur of assent. None of those kneeling glanced up to meet her eyes. "The host will arrive shortly to set the final details and look over what is to be offered. His esteemed guests are set to arrive just before sundown, at which time the gate will be sealed until dawn." She paused, eying everyone carefully. "I expect for everyone to enjoy themselves tonight. Rules are in effect. You all know what is expected of you."

With that, she turned sharply and walked out, slamming the doors behind her.

Ace couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. It was going to be a long night, he just knew it.

Just like everyone else, Marco couldn't help the feeling of awe at the impressive sight the compound made. The lawns and manors were groomed and manicured to perfection, and torches had been set out strategically to enhance the light of the setting sun and they made the place glow with an ethereal light.

Standing with his captain, he eyed his surroundings with a seemingly lazy eye, knowing his brothers, sister, and Pops were probably all doing the same. Mapping the place out just in case they needed to make a quick getaway or it a fight broke out. The commanders all twitched when a resounding clang echoed behind them; guards had closed the gate to town. "Pops...?" Blenheim started, frowning as he looked over his shoulder. "Should we...?" He stopped as the massive Emperor shook his head. A gate like that, though sturdy and strong, was nothing on his crew; seastone or not, if they wanted out, a little barrier like that would not bar their way.

They followed their men, eventually ending up in front of the largest manor of all and incidentally the group in front of it.

Listening to the Keeper's speech made Marco frown. What did she mean by goods? Aquire? He'd been to his fair share of brothels and bars and whatnot, but he had never heard a mistress use language like that. Even her saying "her people" at the end didn't make him relax any. It felt horribly familiar to him, those words, the guards, the gates... He was no longer sure he was comfortable in this place.

He hung back as the crew and other commanders made their way past and into the huge manor before him. He eyed the other manors speculatively, especially the small ones, whose windows were dark and whose doors were closed, and probably locked too, unlike their larger and grander sisters.

"What are you thinking, Marco?" Whitebeard's deep voice rumbled from beside him. His soft grey eyes regarded his eldest son firmly, knowing something was bothering him.

Marco glanced around one last time before looking up at his Pops. He took comfort in the assuredness in his eyes, the calm kindness and the bottomless warmth that he found there. "It's probably nothing, yoi. It just... it seems similar to that place is all." Whitebeard hmmed thoughtfully. He of course knew where the blonde had come from, the kind of life he had been sentenced to before the Maiden called him to the sea. He was probably the only one who knew about it; as far as the old man knew, Marco had never told anyone except him.

Marco shook his head wryly, "Let's go in, Pops yoi, before they come looking for us." With that he strolled in the door of the mansion, where the raucous laughter and excited voices of a Whitebeard party could already be heard.

Edward Newgate waited for a moment before following him slowly.

"- and by the Maiden our bird fell for it! He was convinced the Moby had been abandoned and haunted while he was gone!"

Roaring laughter rang out around the jovial man with the oddly styled red hair. Pirates were crowded into the ballroom, all of them sitting around the few tables, lounging on the floor or dancing rather goofilly as they laughed and joked with each other. Obviously, nearly all of them were drinking, and a large number of them were flirting outrageously with the scant-clothed workers.

There was only one worker seeming to try and disappear into the shadows, and that worker was none other than the one known as Ace.

"More like I played along, yoi, until I got annoyed with you lot."

Ace was torn. The new crew seemed decent enough. The few that had already found company had not even glanced at the Prison Block, but they mainly seemed content to socialize and drink with the others. On top of that, they had the most interesting stories, about different lands and people and tricks they had played... But they were not the only crew there. No, the other crew was spread out randomly in the room and several others, and the only reason Ace was not outright hiding was because he knew the Keeper and her cronies would be furious if he did. He wasnt't to leave the building without the company of at least one pirate.

Ace curiously eyed the group he had been listening to as he served drinks and refreshments. He thought maybe they had higher ranked than the others were, considering they all seemed to defer to them. There was the red headed one, with the bright topaz eyes and wierd hair, and one he was sure was a man despite the clothes and make-up that indicated otherwise. A tall man with a long mustache and curly hair, and one that looked more like a great big statue than anything. A tiny young woman, a big dark skinned warrior, a gruff looking gunner type guy... the list went on.

The one he was most curious about though was the sleepy blonde.

Okay, so my inspiration for this chapter stops there. Next chapter will be up soon, I swear.

Read and review, my friends!


End file.
